


Sherlollipops - Love and War

by MizJoely



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sherlolly - Freeform, ww i au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is off to war. Will he have a chance to say good-bye to Molly before he goes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlollipops - Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> fangirlwithyournumber asked: Prompt #2: World War 1 AU. 20yo Sherlock is inducted to the army. Molly's not willing to stay behind.
> 
> sherlollyandspoilers answered: Hello my dear! I was looking through the prompts I got today and I am not sure I can do this one justice. War AUs aren’t really my thing…I not big into reading them and I have never written one. Sorry! 
> 
> So, if any of my fic writing lovelies would like to take a go at this, please do:D
> 
> mizjoely said: Challenge accepted, hope I did it justice even though I tweaked it a bit!

This was it. He was shipping out soon, and she hadn’t seen him in weeks, not since he’d kissed her good-bye and gone off to basic training. He had only twenty-four hour’s leave before he would be on the train and off to...well, who knew where? France, most likely.

She was being selfish, wishing to have him all to herself when his brother and parents and best friend John - disallowed to serve because of his injured leg, a blessing and a curse, that - had been separated from him just as long as she had. The two of them weren’t even officially engaged, were barely officially dating even if they’d known one another for over a year.

She managed a watery smile at the memory of that first meeting; he’d snuck into the hospital morgue to nick some body parts for experiments, and she’d shrieked and chucked an entire foot at him when she’d come upon him unexpectedly. From that moment the two had become fast friends, and eventually something more.

And now this blasted war was taking him away from her, possibly forever, and all she wanted to do was cry and howl at the unfairness of it all. But Sherlock had been determined to serve his country, although his reasons had been purely his own and still made her laugh at odd moments. “Someone needs to enlist who has half a brain in their head,” he’d drawled as they danced the night away. “Someone needs to look out for the idiots who think this war will be like any other war we’ve fought in the past.” He’d snorted and shook his head as the music ended, holding her hand as he led her back to their table. “Mycroft’s intelligence says this war will be far more brutal than any other, but unfortunately even my brother can’t get the idiots at the War Office to listen to him. Thus my enlistment.”

She’d nodded her understanding, not trusting her voice to show her fear - or her love. They’d not spoken those words to one another, although she was certain he knew - how could he not? And there were times when she thought he must love her back, as ardently as she did him, but there were other times when she...well, when all she wanted to do was chuck another foot at him, to be honest.

And now he was leaving, off to serve his country and possibly d...get himself injured or come down with influenza or, or something, and she was being a silly, selfish girl and moping over not getting to spend time with him. Well! _Enough of that, Molly Hooper!_ she silently scolded herself. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were lovely, and Mycroft was...was...his brother, and John was his best friend and she would take whatever few minutes he might be able to scrape up for her. She would put on a brave face and kiss him good-bye and wish him well and not - absolutely NOT - cry until he could no longer see her.

“Molly?” 

The sound of his voice, speaking her name from somewhere close behind her, started her heart pounding and startled a gasp out of her. She whirled, hands over her lips as she drank in the sight of him. “Sherlock?” she whispered, hardly daring to believe he was right there in front of her. “I, I thought you were going directly to your parents’ house!”

He shrugged, giving her a tentative smile as he dropped the heavy duffel to the pristine floor of the morgue. “Change of plans. Sorry if I startled you - at least you didn’t chuck a foot at me this time!” His smile became a smirk, and she laughed, as much with joy as at the memory.

“So how long before you do leave, then?” she asked, hoping she could have at least an hour or two with him.

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied, and she tilted her head in confusion.

“Sorry? D-did you say tomorrow?” she asked, lips turning downward. 

“Yup,” he replied, popping the p in that obnoxious way he had. Molly could tolerate it but it drove poor John mad whenever he did it. “Mum and Dad were allowed to visit me at camp over the week-end, and Mycroft even managed to smuggle John in.” He took a tentative step forward, his expression as tender as Molly had ever seen it. Her heart, which had started to slow back to normal, sped up again at the sight. “All so I could have these last twenty-four hours with my fiancée.”

In spite of her resolve she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh, Sherlock, you, you shouldn’t have lied to everyone! I would have been fine, I promise, even if we’d only been able to spend a few minutes together, you needn’t have...”

She was silenced by the soft touch of his lips on hers, stilling her protests. “It wasn’t a lie, Molly, or at least, it won’t be if you take this and say yes,” he said when the kiss ended. He reached into his uniform pocket, fumbling a bit as he pulled out a small, black velvet covered box. He flicked it open and presented her with a lovely ring featuring a petite solitaire diamond flanked by a pair of gorgeous blue sapphires. “It was my grandmothers, Mum got it out of the vaults for me. Do be sure and say yes so she won’t have gone to all that trouble for nothing, will you?”

It was as close to begging as she’d ever heard him, and she laughed and nodded, holding out her trembling hand for him to slip the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit, and with a sigh of happiness she threw her arms round him and held him tight. 

“Of course I’ll say yes, you daft man, I love you, how could I possibly say no?” she whispered, then drew him down for a kiss, so bold and improper, but she’d never been the quiet, meek little rule-follower so many believed her to be. Not when it came to anything - or anyone - she felt strongly about.

Such as Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective to Scotland Yard-turned-doughboy.

Her fiancé.

“I know I haven’t said it before, Molly, but I...I love you too,” he said, the words coming in a rush. The tips of his ears turned red, and his expression was bashful, two things she never thought she’d see on him. “And I promise you,” his expression turned serious as he twined their fingers together, “I absolutely promise you, I’ll come home again.”

Two years later he did just that; three months later they were husband and wife, all promises kept, the sun blooming after the darkness of war.

And when they arrived at the car Mycroft had arranged to carry them off on their honeymoon, they both erupted in laughter at the sight of the bevy of mannequin’s feet attached to the boot of the car in lieu of tin cans and old shoes.

It was the perfect sign of the happy – and sometimes contentious – life they would have to look forward to.


End file.
